


i want to put my filthy hands all over your squeaky clean body parts

by oncewewerezombies, Snailman



Series: to accidentally fill a void of yearning [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Alternia-Focused, Anxiety, Big Sub Small Dom, Biting, Bulges and Nooks (Homestuck), Dorks in Love, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Illustrations, Light BDSM, M/M, Scratching, Self-Doubt, Size Difference, up against a wall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:22:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26458648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncewewerezombies/pseuds/oncewewerezombies, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snailman/pseuds/Snailman
Summary: You are reading a book in the idyllic sanctity of your own fucking recreationalblock, curled up on the comfortplank andenjoyingyourself with the throes of romantic fiction, when your matesprit goes past your field of vision.Just once if I have the chanceThe things I would do to youYou and your bodyEvery single portionSend chills up and down your spineJuices flowing down your thigh-Troll Casanova
Relationships: Karkat Vantas/Equius Zahhak
Series: to accidentally fill a void of yearning [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777330
Comments: 11
Kudos: 73





	i want to put my filthy hands all over your squeaky clean body parts

You are reading a book in the idyllic sanctity of your own fucking recreationalblock, curled up on the comfortplank and _enjoying_ yourself with the throes of romantic fiction, when your matesprit goes past your field of vision.

For an idiotic, wastechute-gaping moment, you just pass it off. Just Equius. He walks around in your hive all the _time_ when he's over. That's how any troll would move from block to block after all, move their walking fronds in front of each other, one after the other in a perfectly normal ambulatory fashion. You might have less hiveblocks to move _between_ than he has, but for some reason he'd rather come to your place than have the two of you together in his huge hive. You honestly don't know whether it's because Vriska fucking mindfucker Serket lives on the other side of the canyon, or because his lusus can actually manifest stern lususly disapproval about any shit you get up to together. Crabdad doesn't give a single fucking shit as long as there's enough roecubes to distract him, it's less embarrassing than having a lusus around that can just about articulate its disapproval in coherent sentences...or at least looks like it could.

Anyway.

Back to the point, you're on your comfortplank. In your hive, small and fucking vomitously modest as it might be, and your matesprit has just walked past your field of vision. Mostly naked. Not completely naked, no, he'd never be that crass (mealymouthed prudish _fucker_ ). In his graspers, he's using one large towel to dry his long, silken hair - and there's another towel wrapped around his hips. Barely. Wrapped around his hips. Promising with each shift of his still damp flank, to fall to the fucking floor. He's got it knotted - _somehow_ \- around his hips, god you can't stop looking at his fucking hips, Empress helm you and turn your the contents of your thinkpan inside out to fucking _mush_ \- but you would dare anyone to stop looking from around his waist, his hips. His ass. Down to those muscled thighs that you've had around both your head, and your own hips, or between your own thighs depending on whatever the fuck you felt the need for.

"Equius." Your voice is a croak, dry and parched. You swallow hastily as he turns around to look at you quizzically, his graspers still above his head and towelling his hair dry in idle movements. Makes the muscles in his chest and arms move, almost hypnotically. Why, you wonder inanely, did he pick to use the big towel to use on his head, and the much smaller one to wrap around him like a sop to his modesty. Fuck, he's still just...wet... You have never had this big an urge to lick something in your entire wretched fucking _life_ , and you're pretty sure that includes when you were a tiny screaming wiggler and you'd had have to have put just about any nasty shit in your god damn chewbox. "What are you doing?"

"Mmm?" He just gives you a look like he can't imagine what sort of effect he's having on you, and you don't know whether he's putting it on or actually doesn't realise it at all. Although you'll admit usually Equius is out there wearing his cardiopump - and his kinks - right out there on his sleeve. Maybe he doesn't realise. You don't know whether that's sweet, or concerning. He puts up a big game of being the big strong and generally superior highblood but at the core of it is a wiggler that is afraid of doing something _wrong_. Of not being good enough. You take a moment to cross one leg over the opposite knee. "I was going to get a drink - some milk perhoofs - did you want something, Karkat?"

"Oh my _fuck_." You swallow again because you just can't seem to feel anything but desert in your chirpblister, words tangling around each other uneasily. Do you know you're mostly naked. Do you know how hot you really are. Do you know what you _do_ to me. All those thoughts and all those words writhe around each other in your thinkpan, create undisciplined chaos in your throat, and never quite make it out onto your tongue. "Sure, yeah. I - uh, just some water."

He nods and gives you a shy smile before trotting off to get you both a drink and you smack your palm directly onto your face to punish yourself for being so fucking ridiculous. He's your matesprit! You can _tell_ him shit. You can talk to him. You can definitely let him know that the sight of him in a towel fresh out of the shower makes you want to ride him into the next centasweep. It's basically what the whole fucking quadrant is for. You put your other hand on your face and drag your hands down your cheeks, looking up at the ceiling. Holy shit, you're such a god damn moron.

"...Karkat? Are you alright?"

You open your eyes again, since you'd closed them in pure mortification of what a repulsive bulgewart you are and simply nod, before taking the crystalline drinking receptacle that Equius offers to you. The towel he'd been using on his hair is now draped around his shoulders, which leaves the tiny towel the one that's hanging around his hips. God. It's even worse now. You sip, because if you're drinking at least you're not having to say anything and let your sightnuggets roam over your flushcrush's body. Fuck. It's unfair how hot he is. He's still just in the towel, and you allow a moment of mourning for your self control before you put your thirstcolumn down with decisive click on the bitterbeanwater-plateau near the couch, getting up to take Equius' glass from him as well and putting it down on the table as well.

"Karkat?"

"You just are so fucking dumb sometimes," you tell him, voice almost wondering and pitying him with each tainted corner of your coal-shaped little cardiopusher. He rears up a little bit, eyes narrowing and nostrils flaring briefly in affront at this slur against his intelligence. Look, your matesprit is a fucking genius in some ways, but he is as fucking thick _as a garbagedray full of rocks_ in others. When you touch the towel around his waist, it takes the briefest tug before the knot unravels and it lands on the ground. Leaving him naked and bare in all of his glory. "Really hot. Like, I can't actually articulate the many ways in which you are mindbendingly _sexy_ \- but so fucking dumb."

While he's gaping over that, you reach up to slide your hands into his damp hair, your palms sliding past his jawline on both sides of his face so you can get a good hold to pull him down into kissing you. You don't get up on your tiptoes - you make him fucking _bend_. His hair feels slick and clean against your fingers, tangling squeakily around your grip as you kiss him. Making sure to get him into a proper frame of mind by pushing your tongue into his mouth, and exploring newly familiar ground.

When you let go, Equius looks like you hit him over the head with a rock.

"We're going to pail now," you tell him, and push him backwards to the nearest wall in a way that means he won't trip over furniture by walking backwards. Another reason to be glad to be poor - the wall isn't a subgrub width away and you don't actually have that much furniture in the middle of the room. Unlike how Equius has random pieces of marble statuary littered across his mansion. Really bad statuary. Usually huge fucking musclebeasts or hoofbeasts with an obscene amount of schlong. You know it's art, ok. It's still weird and gross. "I'm going to fuck your nook, and you're going to enjoy it."

"Oh," he says, still looking dazed and vaguely concussed. How he doesn't know you find him outrageously and nauseatingly attractive by now, you don't know. You've proved it often enough. You press up to kiss him this time, while you undo the zip on your pants. If you thought he really didn't want it, you'd stop but sliding your hand between his thighs to stroke your fingers over his nook, he's starting to feel wet already. You bite at his throat to make him groan, and push two fingers inside him as he shudders all over. " _Ah_ , Karkat... _please_..."

"Leg up, c'mon, I can hold you," you promise, knowing you can only do it because the wall is going to help you. You're strong, but you're not as strong as him and Equius is _big_. All that good nutrition growing up and blueblood breeding. Also you'd swear to fuck that his bones, his muscles, are made of some special something heavier and denser than an ordinary troll's. Without that, you don't know how to explain how Gamzee can be higher blooded and still feel like he could blow away on a drift of wind sometimes, but Equius is always _there_ in the moment, heavy and present. He brings his leg up to curl around your waist and you kiss him as a reward.

Your bulge is getting tangled in your _god damn fucking shirt_ , so you haul the hem up to grip it between your front teeth as you push forward with your hips to try and guide it where it's meant to go. Straight into his fucking nook. Both of you groan as your bulge finds where it's meant to be, snug inside the cool grip of his sopping wet slit and you lean into his shoulder, breathing hard. Fuck, this is too good. It's not like this is the first time; it's far from that. But every time, it's so good. You don't deserve this, somehow life is going to punish you for having a good thing in your life and you know you won't see it fucking coming until you're sprawled bloody on the pavement.

But for now, right this moment - it's bliss.

The loose hair of your matesprit's obnoxiously long and beautifully lustrous hair drops forward to shield you both as you kiss him, digging your claws into his thigh as you surge up to make sure that your bulge is as deep inside his nook as you can manage. He warbles, and you can feel his bulge pressing against your stomach, leaving damp trails of indigo blue against your grey skin. You kiss him, bite his lower lip and thrust forward with your hips to make sure he's as full of your bulge as you can manage.

The whole thing is a mess, it's sweat and gasping as you make what there is of your core body strength work for you for once and support Equius when he doesn't just have one leg around your waist, he's got two. All that's keeping the two of you from falling to the floor is you and your fucking chubby ass. God. What a fucking mistake but you can't stop, he won't stop making those noises that just make you want to make him sweat and whine and trill like he's in some kind of primordial heat. A rut. Something that a civilised troll wouldn't come within a lusus-length of, but you want to bring him down that far. You want Equius mindless, you want him hungry for you, for your bulge and it's all you're looking for right now.

Luckily for you, it's usually ridiculously easy to bring Equius to this point. He's so fucking hungry, so thirsty, he wants anything in terms of attention but apparently what he wants the most is _you_. How the fuck had that happened? You don't know but you can't question it too much, you can't pretend that it doesn't have its own impact (on your ego as much as anything else, you fucking hideous mutant freak). Equius touches like you could break, and it'd be something he'd valued that he'd be breaking. Even when he's like this, you can tell he's still hesitating just a little, tempering his strength. It makes you pity him so fucking much, you just shudder with the feeling in your pusher and grind your teeth into the cloth of your shirt.

Equius makes a grinding noise in the back of his throat, and you thrust harder up into him as your hands grab at his ass and thighs. Somehow he manages to wrap both of his legs around your waist as you strain upwards, the lurking fear that you're going to drop him in the back of your mind. It wasn't like it'd _hurt_ him, but it'd be fucking embarrassing when you'd said you could hold him. Although you hadn't really expected him to lock both his (fucking exceptionally) well-muscled legs around you, feeling the heel of one of his feet dragging down the back of your thigh as the two of you shifted to find an easier way to do this.

Fuck, he's a weight. Even with the help of the wall you've pinned him to with his consent, he's still something fucking heavy for you to carry. You dig deep into the stubbornness that won't let you admit a final defeat and let go of the cloth in your mouth so you can bury your face against his chest, pressing your forehead somewhere between his collarbones. God, he had better fucking pail soon or _so help you fucking god_ , you will murder him yourself.

Getting your fangs into his earlobe seems to do it, or maybe your bulge twists just the right way inside him - either way, he shudders and cums all over your thighs and the crumpled remains of your pants. With his nook convulsing around you and the general relief of having met at least one of your goals, you shudder and move to kiss him. Bucking urgently, harder as he pants against your mouth, little _uh uh uh_ noises from the back of his throat as he goes almost slack against you while blue drips down your thighs and down the wall.

And suddenly when he manages to squeeze your orgasm from you, your knees go out from under you.

Your legs splay, knees weak and suddenly Equius is way too much to hold up. Your whole body betrays you, and you both wind up in the puddle of slurry.

And you're on the bottom, like the mook you fucking are at cardiopusher, at the very centre of your being. How the fuck did you ever think you could do this. You're such a moron - it's the thing you did when you tried to kickflip holding your scythes all over again, damn it. With your matesprit's weight and cool muscle on top of you, you have to surrender to the absolute idiocy of the moment for at least a few breaths.

The weight of his body crushes you into the floor, and even if you'd had the mind to complain, you wouldn't have had more breath to do anything but moan. _Fuck_ , he's heavy. You don't really mind. Too much. Just a little bit, the part where you're losing oxygen and not able to replenish it by breathing while Equius whines into your ear. God. Fuck.

Oh god, you're going to die like this. Crushed beneath your matesprit, and he'll feel so _bad_ about it too. For a moment, you consider your impending demise and the way your vision is going black from lack of air.

" _Hhkk_." Equius finally rolls off you, leaving you room to breathe. Oh. Your fucking ribs. Jesus fuck. You find some reserve of energy to pet his hair, feeling the chill and slickly disgusting feeling of slurry on your calves and thighs forcing its way deeper and deeper into your consciousness. You'd known what you were getting into (ok, maybe you hadn't, but you'd signed up for this when you'd let your bulge take control of the proceedings, you malignantly ignorant fucknoramus). "Hnn."

Equius nuzzles at your hair muzzily, while you enjoy the wondrous feeling of having spilled, and yet with the somehow new feeling of being able to breathe again. Fuck. You need to remember that for future reference - it's not like you hadn't known it before, but now you _really_ know it. Don't get between Equius and the floor, for fuck's _sake_. You shakily raise a grasper, to run it through his hair, once, twice, feeling the way his silky hair slides against your palm.

"You need another shower," you say inanely, not able to think of anything besides how you're both covered in slurry. Well. Mostly you, if you're going to be truthful. Equius kisses the hinge of your jaw, one of his arms coming around your torso to hug you softly. You can feel the restrained strength of his muscles as he holds you close; and your pants are still tangled around your ankles. You really suck at this.

"I think, perhoofs, that you need to join me," he breathes into your auricular clot and you flush, before turning to seal your mouth to his in a deep kiss. If he's going to put it like that, you suppose you don't really have another choice. And it would save on the water bills, if you shared the ablutioncloset.

You know, that you're both going to take much much longer together than you would by yourself. But somehow, you find you don't give a single solitary fucking shit about what it could do to your utility bills; especially if, like you think, you're going to get to pail Equius again (you're pretty much certain that you're going to).


End file.
